Ron said, “Maybe I can fix it. Are there any tools around?”
Davey scrambled to his feet. “I know! There’s big tools inna basement, next t’ th’ furnace. Eddie and me seen ’em when we was playin’ down there!”
“Let’s take a look at them.” Ron started to get up.
Sylvia stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “No—you stay right here. Davey, you go down an’ get all th’ tools you can carry. Bring ’em up here. But don’t tell nobody Ron’s up here. Unnerstand?”
Davey nodded eagerly. His big dark eyes went from Sylvia to Ron. “Okay. I be quiet.” He looked very serious and excited at the same time.
So Ron spent the morning taking the refrigerator apart. It kept his mind busy, kept him from thinking about what was happening back home, thinking about his father, his mother, the Examiner. He just worked on the refrigerator and tried to keep his mind blank.
Davey squatted on the kitchen floor next to him, hardly saying a word, watching intently. He took in every move that Ron made, until Ron felt that the child could have copied everything he did, move for move.
Sylvia left in the afternoon. By then, Ron had figured out what was wrong with the refrigerator. It was simply dirt. The motor was very old, but still good. It was just clogged with dust and greasy grime. Davey found some plastic sheets that were almost as dirty as the motor itself, and they used the sheets to clean the motor, piece by piece. Davey helped, although Ron had to redo almost every piece the boy worked on.
By mid-afternoon the refrigerator was humming smoothly and getting cold.
“We did it!” Davey shouted.
Ron grinned and rubbed a hand through the boy’s curly black hair.
The afternoon heat was getting fierce. The little kitchen was like a furnace. Ron went into the other room, and for the first time he saw that there was an air-conditioner set into a niche below the window.
“Hey Davey, bring those tools in here.”
It was dark by the time they finished. The air-conditioner’s main problem was also dirt. But there was also a bad coil in the motor and a couple of loose connections. Ron and Davey sneaked up to an empty room on the next floor and stole pieces from the air-conditioner there.
“Now don’t tell Sylvia we left the apartment,” Ron said to Davey. “She’ll get upset.”
Davey grinned a huge grin. “Okay Ron. It’s a secret. Right?”
Ron nearly got sick when he saw Davey’s grin. The boy’s teeth were almost all rotted black stumps.
By the time Sylvia came back the rooms were cooled off, and Ron’s stomach was growling with hunger. She looked surprised as she came through the doorway, carrying a plastic bag in one arm.
“It’s cool in here!” she said, delighted. “Howdja do it?”
Davey bounded up to her. “We fixed th’ ’frigimader and we fixed the air commissioner. Ron an’ me!”
“Wow,” Sylvia said. She handed Davey the plastic bag, it was small and light enough for him to carry. She went over to the air-conditioner and stood in front of it.
“This’s great. It’s hotter’n hell out on th’ streets.”
Ron smiled. “Wasn’t much.”
“It’s terrific.” Sylvia came over and kissed him lightly. “C’mon, let’s eat. Al’s comin’ up here later on.”
Dinner was nothing more than a few pieces of cold meat and a single bottle of beer. Davey drank the beer, too. There was nothing else.
But Sylvia was planning ahead. “With th’ ’frigerator fixed I can stock some food an’ keep milk fer Davey. An’—hey, Ron, can you fix cookers? There’s a cooker sittin’ in an empty kitchen upstairs. If we can get it down here an’ get it goin’ . . . wow, it’ll be great! Right?”
He laughed. “Right.”
Davey went to sleep right there on the floor. Sylvia picked him up and brought him to the mattress and laid him down gently. Then she pulled the bedcover up over him. Both the mattress and the cover were so filthy that Ron shuddered.
“He’s a bright kid,” Ron said quietly.
Sylvia nodded.
There was a knock at the door, and it swung open before they could move to answer it. Al came into the room, his face dark as a thundercloud.
“So yer back,” he said.
Before Ron could answer, Sylvia said, “I brought him back. You was jest gonna let th’ hardtops flip him.”
For a moment, Al stood there at the door and said nothing. He glanced at Davey curled up on the mattress, then quietly shut the door behind him.
“Okay. Let’s sit down and talk.” They squatted on the floor like three Indians.
For the first time, Ron saw that Al was tired. There was tension in his face. His eyes were blood-shot. Tight lines were etched around his mouth and eyes.
“Now lissen,” Al said. “We can’t feed no extra mouths all winter. That’s why I hadda get ridda ya. It’s tough enough gettin’ food fer all the mouths we got already without puttin’ on a dude from Outside. Catch?”
Ron realized that Al was trying to be honest. Maybe even fair. “What do I do, then?” he asked.
Al shrugged. “All I know is, we can’t feed no extra mouths.”
Slyvia broke in, “But Ron can help th’ gang! He can fix machines an’ stuff. Look, he fixed the air-conditioner. An’ th’ ’frigerator in th’ kitchen. He can fix anything. Right, Ron?”
